


Dance

by phantomas (sil)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:50:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sil/pseuds/phantomas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written in 2006. Kripked by now, more or less.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2006. Kripked by now, more or less.

Mike, Joe and the guys had to insist, cajole and at some point, threaten John.

Not for me, he said.  
I don't dance, he said.  
Wouldn't know how to, he said.

But he was new in town, new at the garage, new at this civil life where his still quite evident Marine attitude made him someone people didn't willingly look in the eyes.

So, he went. All scrubbed and shaved and combed, decent second-hand suit passed on to him from Mike's brother, who'd never come back from Vietnam but who used to have big shoulders and height just like John. His one good shirt on, and shoes spit-polished to within an inch of their shoe-life.

The music wasn't too bad, to be honest. Not enough hard-rock for him, but not bad either. It was a town dance, after all. All the locals there, in their best clothes, whole families, with kids running amok in between the dancers and under the tables. John took his fourth punch and went to sip at it quietly in a corner. The wall needed propping up, most definitely. John thought he stood out like a sore thumb, the stranger in this relatively small but still tight community. The soldier with blood still dripping off his hands.

The guys were dancing, having a good time. It was fine by him. John had been sure that coming here was a bad idea from the start. Leaving his mug on one of the cloth-covered tables aligned along the far wall, he stepped to the side door of the dancing hall, seeking a quiet place where he could have a smoke and not feel each and every eye on him.

A bump into his thigh and he almost fell. One of the little ones had run into him. John kept his balance, somehow, and grabbed the little boy. "There." He made sure the boy was okay, before patting his butt and sending him on his way. The music changed, and he caught a glance of Mike dancing tight with a curvy, small red head. "Great..."

The stars were bright outside. It was a warm summer night. John lit a cigarette, shaking the match before throwing it away. Maybe he should walk to his place. A nice, long walk on his own. To calm him down. Make him forget he really didn't belong here, didn't belong to this country anymore. To this life, of dances and punch and clean suits and screaming nightmares. The voice beside him startled him out of skin.

"Excuse me..."

"God, woman. Warn a guy, will you."

"I'm sorry." She smiled, blonde hair and perfect lips. "I was wondering if you had a cigarette to spare..."

"Sure." John cupped his hands around the tip as she lit the cigarette.

"I don't know you...new in town, yes?"

John nodded.

"You don't like the music?" She tipped her head towards the wide room behind them.

"Not really."

She nodded. They smoked in silence, for a while, John on his second cigarette by now.

"I'm Mary." She offered her hand to him, to shake.

John took it, shook it politely, feeling those slender fingers of hers under his own mechanic-rough skin. "John."

Mary held on to his hand. "We could walk, if you don't feel like dancing."

John knew there was a smile on his lips. "My pleasure." He offered her his arm, like his grandfather used to tell him gentlemen do, and she took it, slipping hers under his.

"So, John. Let's start with the simple questions..." they started walking, and she asked him where he was from, where he was born, where his parents were, how old he was, and many, many other questions. They walked slowly and lazily under the stars, and at one point John lifted her in his arms and mimicked the crossing of a jungle river, her body the rifle in his arms. She made him laugh, telling him all that she knew about cars, and engines, counting it on the tip of her fingers. He walked her back to her place, and kissed her.

Mary made John promise he would learn to dance.

He did.


End file.
